


Make Me Your Headline

by OwlBeDamned



Series: Superheroes/Supervillains AU [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (I have a habit of making many long tags so I want to try and avoid that...), Akaashi is tough as hell, Also much badassery, Also vigilantes!, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst, Capitalism, Crimes and crime-fighting, Friendship, Heroes and Villains, Humor, M/M, Maybe drugs and prostitution in the future?, Mild Violence (?), Minor Injuries, Oh also there'll be the occasional dirty joke, Pain, Rivalry, Romance, Serious Injuries, Sort of inspired by OPM!, Swearing, Technology, domestic stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 14:58:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6380848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwlBeDamned/pseuds/OwlBeDamned
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Funny, how when he was young, he had pictured himself with a baseball bat as well - but he hadn't known he would be using it to torture and beat up a thug in a dark alley at midnight instead of making a home run in a Major League stadium." </p>
<p>At a coffee shop, editor and blogger Akaashi Keiji believes he has spoken to one of the highest-ranking villains in all of Japan. But Bokuto Koutarou fits none of the labels he had given to the "powerful" - he is a ray of sunshine to the malice he was supposed to have. Akaashi, whose anonymous blog has uncovered the identities of both heroes and villains alike and made their lives hell for years now, is willing to do anything for revenge, but now, he wonders at what cost it'll come. After getting an invitation to a fundraiser hosted by the sly entrepreneur Daishou Suguru, he begins to fall into a world where he realizes that not all heroes are light, and not all villains are dark - thus, he'll begin to doubt life as it ever was and fall into a maelstrom of mystery, romance and unexpected action.</p>
<p>After all, why is this 'Jumper' so important?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make Me Your Headline

**Author's Note:**

> Superhero/Supervillain AU (loosely based from One Punch Man!) 
> 
> Please enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! The next update should come in a month, or so (I hope). This is just the first step in a very long journey...haha.
> 
> (Also, it's only this chapter that'll be this long - I just had to introduce a lot of stuff :) !! )

"Good morning, Akaashi!"

  
The deep, yet positively cheerful, tone of his boss' voice is the way Akaashi is greeted upon entering his working office, opening the glass doors of the headquarters of "The Daily Crow", one of Tokyo's trendiest and best-selling newspaper companies, known by reviewers and readers alike "for its genuine reporting, stunning aesthetics and its witty prose."

  
Truthfully though, Akaashi doesn't feel like he can even be a _third_ as sunny as their ever-reliable editor-in-chief. He is tired; the faint bags under his eyes are ever-growing proof of that, and he is sore all over, his muscles pained after all the activity last night. To add on top of all that, it was already winter, and the chaotic battle he had to fight just to get to his workplace on time had nearly killed him. _Literally_. As one of the many incidents that had happened to him while he'd treaded through the high-piled stacks of snow, a truck driver had nearly run him over, since Akaashi had been so snow-covered, he'd looked like a snowman rather than an actual person.

  
However, he couldn't bring that negativity to work.

  
"Good morning, Sawamura-san," nodded Akaashi politely, pushing some snow off himself, as he slipped into his seat and turned on the office's Apple desktop computer, ready to start another tedious day's worth of work.

  
"I've told you a hundred times already, Akaashi, just Daichi is fine," the editor-in-chief half-laughed, half-chastised him as he grabbed a stool and sat perched near Akaashi's desk, sipping from a cup of hot chocolate he knew was from a well-known café around the corner. "Wow, well this weather's a handful, isn't it? Tanaka reports it might be the lowest Tokyo's had in decades, with -2°C! Can you believe it?"

  
"I can, actually, Sawamura-san," muttered Akaashi moodily, taking out one of his shoes to reveal that they are completely soaked, along with his socks, because they had been full of snow and had melted to leave a soggy, uncomfortable sensation. He decided to just take them both off - better to be barefoot then soggy and squishy.

  
"Well, you sure do look like a popsicle!" joked Daichi. "And didn't I just tell you ten seconds ago to call me just Daichi?"

  
"Okay, 'Just Daichi.'"

  
His editor-in-chief chuckled again, unbothered. "That's more like it, the sarcastic Akaashi we know. I was beginning to think the wrong guy had come into office with such a polite greeting! Not like you aren't polite, though, of course you are! In fact, you are probably my sanest and most proper co-worker, but it's just that you always seem to be in such a...'sassy' attitude, perhaps is the term? Yes, you always seem to be the one with the feistiest tongue, even when you look so calm in the outside..."

  
"Dadchi, you're rambling again," teased a sweet voice suddenly.

  
That's all it took to knock Daichi out of his senses and temporarily forget about him. Akaashi secretly smirked as he watched Daichi turn stunned as Suga came into their way, like the sunny, positively shining ash-haired angel he always was, smiling sweetly at the editor-in-chief. And that smile was enough to send him to dreamland, forcing Daichi into a fit of very obvious blushing, spluttering and shy gestures. It was obvious that the editor-in-chief was absolutely smitten with the graphics person, and that the sentiment was shared.

  
"Yes, _Dadchi_ ," teased Akaashi as well, in revenge of being called a popsicle. He knew that Daichi hated him being called that, despite how well it fit his fatherly and protective nature that had nurtured the success of the company and the healthy relations between co-workers. Normally, if somebody called him that, he would glare them apart in seconds. If Suga said it, though... "Are you perhaps, nervous?"

  
The editor-in-chief turned around sharply and narrowed his eyes at him. "Akaashi..."

  
Suga laughed, and Daichi was rendered powerless by the sound of it, his words fading from his mouth as the ash-haired worker grinned. "It's all right, Daichi. Keiji-kun and I were just joking." Akaashi didn't exactly like being called 'Keiji-kun', but Suga was so nice, it was pretty hard to say no. "Oh! Talking about you, Keiji, here. I have something for you."

  
Akaashi finally noticed a box he had been carrying with him and he felt a feeling of dread, knowing what would happen. Suga, opening the box, took out a scarf. The _most horrendous_ scarf Akaashi and anybody else could see, many of Akaashi's nearby co-workers flashing him brief looks of pity, having gone through the same thing (of course, all except his editor-in-chief. Daichi thought everything Suga did was a treasure from above). Ugly, badly-knit, raspy-looking and with a crooked design, Akaashi's neck already felt itchy even before wearing it.

  
"Here, it's a scarf I knit personally for you! It's green too, see? To match your eyes! I was just passing to talk to Noya about some graphs for an article of his, but I thought I'd drop it off to you and see if you liked it," said Suga, with a beaming complexion.

  
Akaashi was pretty sure his eyes weren't vomit green.

  
During winter, everybody, including Akaashi, knew that Suga's usual knitting fetish was particularly strong. Much like Superman was much stronger under sunshine, or like Rey seemed even more badass and with the Force in tough situations, Suga did even more knitting for them than anybody else. He had supplied the entire newspaper company with homemade articles of clothing knit by himself, having inspired himself one day after watching some TV show. Now, no matter what season, be it spring, summer, fall or winter, they knew that Suga would always be there to offer something of him to them.

  
However, everybody in "The Crow" also knew that denying Suga's homemade articles of clothing was as good as calling yourself dead, something which you would eventually become before the next five hours or so. That is, if you weren't already.

  
"Of course, I do," said Akaashi, now used to lying like 99.99% of "The Crow" did about his knitting. "Thank you, Suga-san. It's very beautiful."

  
Immediately, Akaashi wrapped the scarf around his neck. Even though he disliked the scarf, he, also like everybody else, appreciated the love and sentiment Suga put into it. Besides, it meant less yen wasted on buying clothes, and more for his rent. Plus, even if they were aesthetically unpleasant and very uncomfortable, the wool was of good quality, so he was able to stay warm effectively and free. Could it get any better?

  
"I'm so glad!" gushed Suga. "Well then, I'll be off. Have a good day, both of you! And stay warm under this weather."

  
Then, boldly, as if he had thought Akaashi had stopped watching, Suga leaned into Daichi's ear and whispered, his breath hot, "And if you want something else to warm you up, meet me in my office in ten." Then, giving the blushing editor-in-chief a bold, saucy look, smiled slyly and as he walked over to Noya's desk, gave Daichi a hearty squeeze in the ass.

  
Nope. Akaashi was going to put that scene in some dark corner in his mind to be forgotten, never to be seen or remembered again.

  
He coughed, feeling as, if not more, awkward as Daichi right then. "Ahem. So, is there anything in particular you want me to help you out with, Daichi-san?"

  
"O-Oh, y-yeah," stammered Daichi, still recovering. He cleared his throat, gave a big breath and went back to normal, his voice becoming professional and all-business as he always was. "For the next issue, I wanted some help from you to get ideas. I know you're busy editing Ennoshita's article on that concert and that you are busy refining Yaku's politics column, but I would be grateful if we could sit down some time and discuss some ideas for the main page. I want something interesting that will hook the readers-"  
"Actually, I think I have just the thing."

  
Daichi looked at him. "You...do?"

  
"I got an invitation to go to the fundraiser for Daishou Corp tonight," Akaashi informed him, feeling oddly proud of himself.

  
" _You did_?" said Daichi, completely unable to mask the utter shock and surprise from his features. As stern and intimidating as he could be, the purity, sincerity and good deep in his heart made Daichi one of the easiest people to read, Akaashi thought. " _How_? They are calling it the most elite event of the year!"

  
"Well, um, Daichi-san, I have-"

 

* * *

 

  
_"I came into this world kicking and screaming in somebody else's blood. I am not afraid to get out of it the same way," hissed Akaashi, giving another clean swing of his baseball bat and smashing the guy's nose even more, bruising their face horribly. "Now tell me, who the fuck is The Jumper?"_

  
_Funny, how when he was young, he had pictured himself with a baseball bat as well - but he hadn't known he would be using it to torture and beat up a thug in a dark alley at midnight instead of making a home run in a Major League stadium._

  
_"I don't fucking know, I told you!" moaned the guy, grabbing his nose in pain. One, which was overflowing with blood. In fact, the man himself was like a punching bag, like a chewed up piece of meat, bloody and half-torn apart. Akaashi had really gone a bit too far. But well, desperate measures gave fruitful answers. "You're a fucking animal!"_

  
_"And you're a fucking idiot for not wanting to tell me anything!" snapped Akaashi. He made another swing, and hit the knee, making it crack cleanly. The guy gave another shout, a scream of pain. "I repeat once more, who is The Jumper?"_

  
_"I'm not shitting with you. I honestly don't know!" exclaimed the guy. He glared at him. "And even if I did, I wouldn't tell a son of a bitch like you."_

  
_Akaashi didn't answer; instead, he hit his solar plexus, earning a satisfying shriek of complete pain._

  
_"Next one cuts your chance of getting children to none," hissed Akaashi. "I'll ask this one last time. Who is The Jumper? What is his identity? What do the heroes want to do with this person? Why is he so important?"_

  
_"I-I don't know! B-But wait," said the thug desperately, watching as Akaashi grabbed the hilt of the bat menacingly, ready to fulfill his promise. "I-I know somebody who does know! I-It's..." His voice grew quieter. "The Snake. It's the Snake."_

  
_"Now we're getting progress," snapped Akaashi, getting into his heels. He looked down at the thug, edging closer to him. "When you mean the Snake, are you referring to Daishou Suguru?"_

  
_"Don't say it so loudly!" hissed the thug. His voice was barely over a whisper, so low, Akaashi almost couldn't hear a thing. "That bastard has eyes and ears everywhere. He'll kill me if he finds out-"_

  
_"And you're assuming I won't? Because I will. And I'm not afraid of a little lizard either. What about him? What does he know? What do you know about him?"_

  
_"I-I don't know much! J-Just that he wants The Jumper a-and that he plans to do something b-big, like something really important with him."_

  
_"No shit genius. But did you not hear why he wants to do something with it? Or who?"_

  
_"I-I don't know! I-I'm not that high enough. B-But...I do know that they haven't identified the person yet. Just the gender and the appearance. I-It's a male."_

  
_"That narrows it a lot, thanks."_

  
_"Don't be fucking sarcastic! It's actually classified info. I was lucky not get caught! A-And I also know that they have actual footage." Now that was interesting._

 

_"Footage?"_

  
_"Y-Yeah, a-apparently, in the Snake's house there's some footage on The Jumper. It's blurry and only shows the back, b-but they've been using it to narrow down the info. Apparently he's hid it in his personal data files."_

  
_"Okay. And why is The Jumper important?"_

  
_"I-I don't know! B-But I think h-he has something that the higher-ups want. S-Something p-precious, like valuable to sell in the market."_

 

_"Huh. All right then. You will help me get to his house then," said Akaashi slyly. Then, easily, from the weakened thug's front coat pocket, grabbed a slip of paper. Or what was paper, in reality, was an envelope, which as Akaashi opened it, contained a genuine invitation to a fundraiser hosted by Daishou Corportations in none other but the founder and CEO's exclusive mansion. "By giving me this."_

  
_Suddenly, the sound of sirens and screaming came into place. Somebody must've reported the noise and restlessness. Akaashi didn't judge them; he probably would have done the same. Putting the envelope deep into his backpack and putting his bat carefully in place, he quickly turned around to leave, when suddenly-_

  
_"Wait, so you're just going to leave me here to the cops?!"_

  
_"Pretty much, yeah."_

  
_"Fucking animal!" shouted the thug. He grunted, trying to get up, but found that he couldn't and was too pained to do anything else. He had sustained too much body damage. After all, Akaashi hadn't been baseball captain in middle school for nothing. "Okay then, at least just answer me one thing before I get caught by those shitmongers."_

  
_He could at least do him that favor. "What?" he snapped._

  
_"Why do you even care so fucking much about the heroes?"_

  
_"Because they ruined my life," said Akaashi, unpleasant memories running through his mind, before running away and escaping to safety. "And I intend to do the same to them."_

 

* * *

 

  
"-my ways," finished Akaashi, almost innocently.

  
Daichi looked at him, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "...I'm just going to accept that extremely broad explanation and assume that you got that invitation using good, honest means." He waved a hand and sighed, as if he were trying to wave those thoughts away. Then he flashed him a smile.

  
"Well, whatever. I trust you, Akaashi. And you got one, that's what matters! Wow, that's incredible, Akaashi! Truly incredible. I heard that he didn't invite many reporters, so we'll one of the only ones to have such an exclusive piece of news. It'll be good for our issue!" said Daichi happily. "Can we trust you with this one, then? Sorry, I know you're a busy editor and you haven't written one in some time, but-"

  
"Of course, it's no problem," said the editor kindly.

  
Daichi sighed in relief. "Thank you, Akaashi! What would we do without you?"

  
"More like what would we do without you, Daichi-san," said Akaashi genuinely. "I am just doing what I can to help 'The Crow', but my efforts seem miniscule compared to what you do, really. You can ask anybody."

  
What they wouldn't know, and _wouldn't have to know_ , was that Akaashi had motives other than reporting for going to that DaiCorp fundraiser.

  
Before Daichi could reply, however, two figures bounced over energetically, two loud tornadoes swirling to disrupt what had been peace. Akaashi hadn't even begun any of his work yet and probably wouldn't finish until late today.

  
" _Akaaaaaaaashi_!" said Tanaka and Nishinoya simultaneously, elongating the 'a' sound in his name by many times.

  
"Well, good morning to you two too."

  
"We like, totally need a favor from you," said Nishinoya.

  
"Seriously, it's like top secret," said Tanaka. "It's a special errand of sorts!"

  
"If it is indeed such a secret, you shouldn't say it in public," retorted Akaashi amusedly.

  
"Okay, so it's not that much of a secret. But Ryuu, my bestest of best bros," said Noya, flashing a wink at Tanaka's direction, exchanging a quick bro-fist session, "here, is right. We need you to do a little...errand of sorts. I know you just came in and that you probably saw the snow outside, but-"

  
Akaashi sighed, feeling a sense of foreshadowing enter him. "Yes, sure, just give me the money and I'll go down to the corner café to buy you two something."

  
" _Thank you so much, 'Kaashi!_ " the two exclaimed, happily jumping up and down, as they revelled in the near future, where they would get their hot drinks to alleviate the downright freezing weather all around them.

  
"You are so bae," added Nishinoya.

  
"You just called Akaashi-kun 'poop' in Danish," informed Kiyoko with a faint smile as she passed by, a stunningly intelligent and beautiful woman. She was currently the leader of the company's market data group, and was known to be the head's top candidate for future presidency of the newspaper company, known for her vast reliability, resourcefulness and hard-working nature.

  
"Akaashi I am so sorry! Forgive me," exclaimed Nishinoya dramatically, throwing himself into Akaashi's arms. The latter looked at him with a 'it's okay?' expression and carefully placed himself out of his reach, just as the shorter man burst into laughter. "Gosh, didn't I just sound like Asahi? Who would have thought...?" Nishinoya then went on rambling, talking nonstop about the big friendly giant who worked with the online staff.

  
That seemed to happen often now, Akaashi noticed, putting the precious information in one of the files in his head. He kept files on everybody, and now, he would treasure this piece of information, to tease Nishinoya with once he had finally reached a conclusion for his feelings for one Azumane Asahi.

  
On the other hand, Tanaka was more busy with the fact that Kiyoko had actually spoken to them, and had passed out in the floor, cheeks flushed. Akaashi knew that what Tanaka had for her wasn't truly love, but a feeling of half-infactuation, half-admiration, which always led for him to act like a total goof around her.

  
He, and Nishinoya as well, had always acted as her "protection squad" anyways and had acted as a barrier between her and the men who always sought her out. Which, of course, were many. But Kiyoko looked far from settling down and was focusing on her career, quickly rising through the ranks for her brilliant work etiquette and her respectable nature. And everybody respected that, seeing her as a prized friend and co-worker, rather than constantly going after her, like many strangers impertinently did today, even when she made it clear she wanted nothing romantic to do with them.

  
And that's where Tanaka and Noya always came in very handy - while they sometimes acted as a pair of goofs, when they needed to get serious, it was best to begin running as far as one could before they caught you once they were angry...Their efforts had successfully thwarted disgusting men from approaching their prized friend and co-worker.

 

Akaashi sighed, rolling his eyes, although a fond smile played at his fine lips. What did he ever do to deserve these people? If only they knew how much hatred he had in him, how dark he was compared to their good natures... "You're welcome, you two."

 

* * *

 

 

Personally, the dark-haired journalist thought that "The Pudding Head" was a pretty strange name for a café, but the coffee was good, the sandwiches were even better - and there was free wi-fi, so he really couldn't complain.

  
When he entered the café it was relatively full, but there were only a few people in line. Quickly, he joined in and looked around. One of his first lessons in life was to analyze his surroundings and see what he could get out of them. However, his current one wasn't particularly threatening. All the tables, fifteen in the inside (the five outside were obviously not in use), were full, but they were all filled with normal civilians - families, young couples engaging in PDA that Akaashi frankly did not want to look at, teenage friends, elderly and groups of ladies who were gossiping with each other in the warm environment over a hearty cup of coffee.

  
"The Pudding Head" was indeed a homey place, he decided. It was hard not to feel relatively at home, even if one didn't exactly have one, like Akaashi. He tightened Suga's green scarf around him. Even if it was warm inside, the biting cold he had wrestled outside just to get here was still somehow with him, chilling him to the bone. As much as he liked nice cold weather, it really didn't suit him.

  
To distract himself, he forced himself to look at the flat screen TV perched comfortably at the crook of the café. Situated in the corner, it was the only television, but it was better than nothing, and offered great visuals, with high-tech quality that must've come at an expensive price, especially with a TV of such a large size. Much must have been invested in this place, Akaashi noticed.

  
He also noticed what was playing in TV, a news reportage by two familiar-looking individuals Akaashi had seen plenty before, two blonds, a young woman and a young man, the latter significantly taller than the other. Both dressed elegantly, they were talking about their current weather, how it was perhaps one of the coldest temperatures for a place like Tokyo and the crisis it was forming across several of its streets. The man, " **Tsukishima Kei** " according to the label offered by the news broadcast company, was speaking about some statistics, although his tone sounded quite monotone and frankly, not very interested. Akaashi would take note of that.

  
His thoughts, however, are interrupted by a sudden loud statement, which actually manages to surprise him and take him off guard for a couple of seconds, before he regained his composure.

  
"Hey hey hey! I haven't seen you around before, have I?"

  
Akaashi turned in front of him to look at the most beautiful pair of eyes he had ever seen.

  
For a moment, he is almost left breathless. Those stunning golden orbs are so foreignly fascinating, that he almost drowns in what is their seemingly endless history, almost forgets his surroundings. However, his conscience mentally snaps him into place as a helpful warning, telling him he shouldn't be so easily read against this stranger and he quickly runs a scan through the owner of those incredibly mesmerizing golden eyes.

  
The owner is a male with crazily-fashioned hair, colored white-grey with black streaks, spiked upwards almost in uncanny resemblance to a horned owl, an animal which Akaashi had read in a book once. He was of medium build, but had extraordinary physique, with well-defined muscular mass and the decent height of around 185 cm. He was dressed with a big smile, so bright it was almost blinding, and casual clothing that showed he must have just finished a run: a random t-shirt that was already sweaty, running shorts, running shoes - _and wait, were those leggings_?

  
"No, we don't seem to be acquainted with each other," he managed to reply coolly, pretending he is more controlled than he actually is.

  
"Oh, then that's great! Because we totally should! Like right now! _Yisss_ ," grinned the man, flashing him a winning complexion. "Can I like, shake your hand? You know, to introduce myself? My dad used to tell me that the best way to get to know somebody is by giving them a good ol' firm handshake from the heart!"

  
"Um...sure?" said Akaashi, confused out of his mind.

  
"Yes, thank you! I'm so glad to meet you. Oh, wait, totally rude. I should totally introduce my incredible presence to you, great stranger! My name is - _oh my gosh are these your hands what are these_? Holy crap they're so soft do you get them massaged somewhere or something or do you have some sort of lotion because I feel like I've touched the hands of Jesus, no like a freaking baby bunny or a puppy and honestly I don't know what I am feeling right now I feel like I'm in heaven oh gosh I seriously would like to like frame this moment somewhere but I can't really frame something I touch right? I mean I would have to like chop your hands off right because I really don't want to do that I love your hands and I think you should totally keep them because they're incredible and I really love them, it's not like they're just pork chops I can like slice up because you know the other day I went to this really neat-ass French restaurant and they served really nice pork chops sliced up and very good meat but of course the wine was also good and so anyways your hands aren't like those pork chops because they're very precious and by all means you should protect them and keep them as heavenly as they are and...oh gosh, I'm rambling again, am I not?" said the stranger as soon as he shook Akaashi's hand, talking non-stop, almost like an ongoing locomotive.

  
Akaashi almost felt like laughing, and that itself surprised him. So much, that he was taken aback and forced to rethink everything, including his very situation. He wasn't somebody to feel his emotions much, and he sure wasn't one to express them openly - but this man, this man had befuddled him to the core in just a span of less than a minute. He had actually managed to spark a conversation with somebody like him, and one that had actually humoured him. Akaashi couldn't believe it. This stranger had been able to feel completely ease and lure him into a friendly exchange as effortlessly as one could breathe, had charismatically charmed him with his winning complexion and his easy-going nature, had persuaded him into having physical contact with him.

  
What a terrifying force of nature.

  
Akaashi was wrong - this was the greatest threat in his current environment. And he had to be aware of it, lest he fell to its clutches. Of course though, he couldn't help it but let out a small friendly remark.

  
"That's quite the long name," Akaashi teased.

  
"Haha, yes, sorry! The name's Bokuto Koutarou," laughed Bokuto, scratching the back of his neck apologetically, almost in an endearing childish way. Akaashi noticed he had a nice laugh...he would remember that, but for no reason in particular. "But I'm serious, do you some sort of lotion, great stranger? Because your hands are insanely soft."

  
"No, actually, I'm surprised you would say that. I work as an editor, so I have to type all day. You, on the other hand, you have a very strong grip," commented Akaashi. That was true. Bokuto's hand had still left a mark on Akaashi's, his handshake as strong and bold as his very character.

  
"Well, yeah! As my dad said, a good strong handshake is the way to greet somebody. And I've taken that deep into my heart," said Bokuto with a vigorous nod. "Oh, and editor, that is so great! I wish I could have the patience to sit down and look through people's errors and give them feedback for an entire day. I couldn't do it."

  
"Well, it's enjoyable in a way, although I don't do it for an entire day. Even I wouldn't be able to do such a thing," said Akaashi, and then in a questioning tone, the following. "What about you? What do you do?"

  
"Oh, me? I'm a personal trainer!" _Of course he was. Godammit._ "Usually I don't take clients though, since I want some time to relax now. I'm a retired professional light heavyweight fighter. I ranked fifth internationally, first nationally and I won first place at the Asian Wrestling Championships for four years in a row. Just search up my name and you'll find tons of official pictures of me, oh ho ho! Because I'm just that great! But I guess I have my dad to thank for that, huh? He helped me get my black belt during my early middle school and my career started then! But anyways, I retired and I just oversee some gyms of mine I have here in Tokyo."

  
"Why'd you retire?"

  
"Hm...I don't really know, but I was just tired, you know? Sometimes all that fighting really takes its toll," commented Bokuto and sighed. "But I'm still nowhere as cool as you are! With those hands of yours, I bet you are so good with them-"

  
They paused and both flushed in embarrassment at how wrong that actually sounded, Bokuto becoming visually red. The then burst simultaneously into speech.

 

"Gosh, sorry, great stranger! That was super-"

  
"Are you kidding, Bokuto-san?"

  
Bokuto stopped mid-sentence, blinking. "What?"

  
"Don't underestimate yourself. You are a great person, Bokuto-san, and your accomplishments are even greater. You shouldn't taint your confidence like that."

  
"Well yeah, I am pretty great..." he smiled boastfully. Then, he got even more excited. "Hell yeah, I am pretty great!"

  
"That's right, Bokuto-san," said Akaashi, smiling weakly.

  
"Yeah, thank you! Whoo, I just needed a little to reminder to remember how fantastic I am! I totally have someone who believes in me-" Bokuto suddenly paused, looking at him. "Wait, did you ever tell me your name? Because I can't just call you 'great stranger', right?"

  
"Oh, right...um, my name is Akaashi Keiji," he said begrudgingly, since he disliked saying his real name.

  
"Akaashi...like 'akaashi-moru-fukurou', like rufous-legged owl?"

  
"That's right."

  
"Oh my gosh, it's meant to be! We're like...owl brothers," said Bokuto, with a loud gasp, looking more like a child than an adult. He began squealing with excitement. "Since, you know, 'Bokuto' is a 'horned owl' and technically you are a rufous-legged one, so we're like...man, it was meant to be."

  
"Totally, Bokuto-san," said Akaashi, rolling his eyes at Bokuto's childishness and genuine happy complexion.

  
" _Next_!"

  
Strangely, to his disappointment, it's Bokuto's turn and he is unable to speak to him, turning to the register. There, he begins talking excitedly with the person in the counter, who is apparently is a 'bro' of his. Bokuto then began to converse rapidly with this man, almost as if they had been best friends since forever, and Akaashi doubted he had actually stated his order yet. The man he is speaking to, however, whose nametag said " **Hello! My name is** Kuroo", didn't look in the least bothered and was able to return to the conversation with just as much enthusiasm and energy as Bokuto was. At one point, while he stood patiently for their talk to finish, Akaashi overheard an interesting piece of information and couldn't help interrupt.

  
"Wait, you just moved here?" said Akaashi, feeling impertinent, but unable to stop asking.

  
"I did! I just moved in here three days ago! Isn't it _increeeddible_? Like me, of course!" exclaimed Bokuto with a loud grin, jumping up at an outstanding height. He was definitely, and this was even counting his co-workers...the most hyperactive person he'd met. "I mean, I'm just staying here for a couple of weeks for a job, then I'll go back to my 'home sweet home', but I really love this place! I'm feeling so many positive vibes coming from it already. Don't you? Don't you?"

  
_If you just moved in three days ago, why would you expect yourself to know me? Were you just looking for a conversation starter? Why did you seek to make a conversation with me? What are your ulterior motives?_

  
"Well, I have lived here all of my life, so I suppose so, Bokuto-san," deadpanned Akaashi. "But I would appreciate if you made your order. There are other people in line, you know."

  
Well, there was, but other than himself, there was only one other, a young girl who looked to be about in her first year of high school. But Akaashi's argument was pretty weak. In truth, the young girl didn't seem to bothered. After all, she was too busy taking selfies of herself to actually notice the line had moved.

  
"Ah, sorry - I'll have my usual," said Bokuto, and Kuroo then nodded to a nearby worker, a kind-looking, short energetic youth with bright orange hair and innocent, but ambitious-looking wide brown eyes, who quickly went to work.

  
"Yup. Well, I'm sure Brokuto's already made himself home with no troubles. We just met yesterday," grinned the friendly-looking barista, Kuroo, with a wicked grin, golden eyes (although not as large and stunning like Bokuto's) looking at him slyly, as if they were coldly analyzing him in secret, "but we're already greatest of bros. Right?"

  
"Of course bro," exclaimed Bokuto. "How would you doubt the power of our friendship, bro? We were meant to be, you know?"

  
"I wouldn't doubt it bro. You know why?"

  
"Why?"

  
"Because if I were a cat, I'd spend all of my nine lives with you."

  
"Bro!" exclaimed Bokuto with fake tears in his eyes, clutching his chest dramatically, looking at Kuroo with exaggerated emotion.

  
"Bro," replied Kuroo, and the two of them immediately burst into embrace, throwing themselves into each other's arms.

  
"Um," said the orange-haired worker awkwardly as he seemingly popped out of nowhere, his wide brown eyes curious, sliding the products over to the counter. "Three sandwiches, two blueberry muffins, a caffè mocha, a flat white and a latte macchiato with a drizzle of chocolate on top ready for the go."

  
"Aww, yes! That was fast. Thank you...Hinata, is it?" said Bokuto, handing the appropriate amount of money over to Kuroo and squinting his eyes at the orange-haired worker's nametag, that hung loosely in his green-brown uniform.

  
"Yes! It's Hinata Shoyo," exclaimed Hinata, with a beaming smile. He eyed Bokuto's order. "Wow, you sure do eat a lot! That looks like a handful."

  
"Haha, it's not all for me, Shoyo! The flat white is for somebody else, and so is one of the muffins. But yeah, I sure do eat a lot! My dad always said that it's no good to do things on an empty stomach. And I just came from a workout, so," said Bokuto loudly, quickly gathering things. Akaashi raised his eyebrows at how quick he'd gone to first name basis.

  
Suddenly, loud noise came from the TV.

  
"Oh, what's that?" asked Hinata curiously, leaning far across the counter to look and almost falling over, his brown eyes flickering at the screen.

  
The four of them turned around to look at the screen, which flickered for a while and then went back to normal. The two reporters looked a little shaken, but tried to keep calm, speaking as sanely as one could. One of the reporters, this time the petite young blonde lady, " **Yachi Hitoka** " according to the label offered by the news broadcast company, was speaking.

  
_"O-Oh, we're just getting reports now from our land reporters of a recent explosion in XX Bank in AA street, just from across the street of our news headquarters-"_

  
Bokuto looked curiously, his golden eyes surprisingly serene, as he held his order. "It seems like there's been an explosion in XX Bank right now."

  
Kuroo hummed in apprehension, his eyes not revealing his thoughts. "That's just twenty minutes away from the café."

  
_"-It is believed that at 10:23 a.m., just three minutes ago, the suspect entered the bank with the seemingly innocent purpose of withdrawing money but as they got to the center of the room, immediately went on a rampage, destroying all cameras in the area. He then proceded to...single-handedly massacre all bank security staff of all sixteen floors from XX Bank, and currently holds various civilians and high-ranked individuals hostage in the building, including XX Bank founder and president Izaya Heiwaijima."_

  
"That's a big fish," said Bokuto. "Isn't he worth like, one billion dollars?"

  
"Yup," nodded Kuroo. "He's one of the richest in Japan."

  
"Wow, one billion dollars...so many meatbuns..." added Hinata.

  
Akaashi stayed quiet, entranced by the scene in the TV, hatred boiling inside of him. He had no doubt of who was the culprit of such a crime. He had studied this person after all, and he knew almost everything there was to him...except his identity, which he would find out.

  
The Guess Monster.

  
The blonde reporter, coughed a little, before continuing, just as steadily as she had before. _"The suspect, now identified, is believed to be the infamous criminal and powerful L-class villain 'The Guess Monster', known for his notorious stunts and high-scale crimes, performed with flashy spectacles and high ransoms, with a particular fixation with pyrotechnics. Knowing his extensive criminal reputation, it is no surprise he was able to..."_ she swallowed, obviously uncomfortable by the statistic _"...kill 57 people in three minutes, kill another 30 in his explosion, and hack into the bank's security systems, holding hostage all the individuals. No weapons were also registered during this incident, and it is frighteningly reported that everything was done with the villain's literal 'bare hands.'_ "

  
"Wow!" exclaimed Hinata, wide-eyed. "Just one person was able to hold an entire sixteen-floor bank hostage, with no weapons?"

  
"Those are L-class villains for you," said Akaashi darkly, the three of them turning around to look at him, each with their respective curious expressions. "They are individuals who have been corrupted by their overwhelming power and have fallen into low depravity. They are people, no, _monsters_ , who kill because they can and because they want to quench their selfish desires."

  
"You could join a poetry contest, handsome," smirked Kuroo.

  
"Yes, wow, that was deep!" added Hinata.

  
"He's right though," said Bokuto, unnervingly serious. He looked at the screen. "57 people in three minutes? It's hardly possible to think a human being could do such a thing." He then looked around them and flashed them a small smile. "Well, I'll be going! My friend is waiting for his drink, surely. Everyone, stay safe."

  
He paused, and then exclaimed loudly to Kuroo and Hinata. "Farewell my dearest brother from another mother! Farewell Shoyo, my dearest underclassman!"

  
And then, he turned and waved almost shyly at Akaashi, almost whispering at the end. "And goodbye Akaashi! It was super cool meeting you. And it would be um...even cooler if we could meet again." He paused and then spoke louder. "Goodbye world!"

  
And that is how Bokuto waltzed out, his stride proud and bold as his running shoes beat against the well-decorated floor of "The Pudding Head." On his way out though, he comforted a crying little girl and patted her on the head, laughing as he gave her one of his muffins which immediately stopped her crying. He waved cheerfully at the little girl's parents and closed the door behind him as he went out, a hop in his walk.

  
What a terrifying force of nature, this Bokuto Koutarou.

 

* * *

 

"So hello there, _gorgeous_. Akaashi Keiji, from what I overheard from your conversation with my Brokuto. What could I do for you?"

  
"I am obviously here to buy some tomatoes," deadpanned Akaashi. "No, I'm here to order. Could I please have two hot chocolates, a croissant, an apple pie and an espresso?"

  
Kuroo smirked, ruffling his messy hair to muss it up even more. "Sure thing, gorgeous!" He gestured once more to Hinata, who immediately set to work.

  
"Don't call me that...Kuroo."

  
"It's Kuroo-san!" the barista said in a sing-song voice. "I am older than you, you know."

  
"Okay, then it'll be _idiot_ Kuroo-san," said Akaashi. He then turned around, looking at the television, feeling his hatred boil once more. "I wonder what the heroes are doing at this very moment, while this is happening."

  
"The heroes?" said Kuroo, looking at him with a strange expression. "Akaashi-kun, you do know that this isn't the only crime going on in the city. I bet they're busy elsewhere as well."

  
"Is that so?" snorted Akaashi.

  
Kuroo was quiet, and even as Hinata brought over the order, the three of them quietly contemplated the reporting in the TV. Even Hinata, who Akaashi had decided was like a pocket version of Bokuto, with just as much if not more enthusiasm, energy and ambition for life as him, looked unnervingly serious, his lips forming a straight frown and his eyes betraying none of his true emotions, looking blank. After a while though, he was called to clean a table, and off he went, leaving the two of them.

  
It had switched over to " **Tsukishima Kei** ", who was still talking about the explosion:

  
_"-Police officers are currently heading to the area, as the protectors from our nearest JUST squad all find themselves occupied with respective tasks. However, some NICE heroes will be heading that way as well, members from our Fukurodani chapter. It is recommended for all civilians in the nearby area to return home as soon as possible and stay safe."_ The tall blond-haired man moved his glasses, looking at a paper in his hands with a monotone expression, and continued. _"Also, our reporters say that from inside the building, 'The Guess Monster' plans to release live footage of himself speaking and declaring the ransom for the hostages, as well as his motives for the crime. This footage will be released in two minutes time. Until then, we await further information, which we will surely inform you with. Please stay alert civilians, and don't panic."_

  
"Hey Hinata!" shouted Kuroo suddenly, taking off his apron and revealing the black shirt and jeans he wore underneath. He put it on a perch and looked at the orange-haired boy, who bounced over curiously. "Come over here for a moment. Could you cover for me? I just remembered that I totally forgot to run an errand. I have to head over to the laundromat and I won't be back for a while. Could you take over the shop for me?"

  
"M-Me?!" exclaimed Hinata, although his tone made Akaashi unsure on whether he was nervous, or simply extremely excited for this newfound responsibility. "I-Is that okay? I mean, there are other better people w-who can do it. Maybe Yuuji-"

  
"You want me to leave _Terushima_ in charge? I admit I had some beers last night, chibi-chan, but I didn't drink that much," snorted Kuroo incredulously, shaking his head. "I like him all right, but I'm not crazy enough to leave him while I'm on a bathroom break, much less for many hours. I trust you for the task; otherwise, I wouldn't have asked you."

  
"You do...really? You think I'll do fine?"

  
Kuroo laughed, ruffling the orange-haired worker's wild mess of hair. "Aw, don't worry, chibi-chan! You'll do just fine." Then, the air around him turned menacing as he glared as his younger worker. "But if you _damage_ anything from my equipment, I'll charge you _twice_ the amount it cost - even if it's a chopstick we're talking about. And the consequences will be worse if something disastrous like a fire happens to the establishment."

  
"But as I said, you'll do fine, chibi-chan! Bye, put Terushima in the counter - but don't let Terushima flirt with all the female customers at any time, all right?" smiled Kuroo, leaving a shaking frightened-out-of-his-wits Hinata standing in his place, waving to him as he gathered his stuff. He looked at Akaashi. "Goodbye, gorgeous. Stay gold."

  
"Sure, idiot Kuroo-san," said Akaashi, rolling his eyes. "You too."

  
As Kuroo left the establishment, the reporting came back on. This time, however, the two reporters were only allowed to speak briefly on some world issues before switching back to the explosion, when suddenly footage came and a man came on the screen.

  
The Guess Monster was a view Akaashi was familiar with. He had tons of his pictures in his laptop - but none as clear as this. He was relatively tall and was of good build, with lean muscles and a sly-looking smirk, although his facial features were always covered by a magenta mask with silvery outlines, shaped as if it were for a masquerade. His hair, a bright red like the hue of the droopy, overly confident eyes that sickened Akaashi so much, was spiked up. The rest of his outfit involved a bright magenta jumpsuit that matched his mask, a bright red belt that was loose on his lean abdomen, a red-magenta cape, a pair of shining red boots and a pair of red gloves.

  
He was currently sitting in a fancy leather chair, polishing his shoes on the director general and CEO of XX Bank's mahogany table, smirking relaxedly as the camera rolled on. Finally, he leaned back relaxedly and looked at the camera with that infamous smug look of his Akaashi absolutely detested.

  
_"Well, hello there!"_ he exclaimed, waving excitedly. _"The Guess Monster here. I'll make it brief, since I know you are all enjoying your lovely winter mornings. And of course, I am an extremely considerate person!"_

  
_"You killed 87 people in less than five minutes,"_ said another voice behind the L-class villain. _"I wouldn't call that considerate."_

  
The Guess Monster smiled, smacking his hands together joyfully. _"So you finally speak, oh-great-King! You want to present yourself?"_

  
_"No,"_ said the cold voice back.

  
Akaashi looked in wonder as behind the Guess Monster, a Rubik's cube was floating seemingly in thin air, being solved. He narrowed his eyes. So, this was the legendary villain, 'the King', the one who had many abilities, among them invisibility, and who was also an L-class villain. Nobody had actually seen him physically, since he chose his invisible form most of the time.

  
Of course, once Akaashi discovered the Guess Monster's identity, the King's would be next.

  
_"Wah, what a party pooper!"_ sighed the Guess Monster, sticking out his tongue. He swirled, turning the chair around and faced another two individuals. _"What about you two? Want to introduce yourself? Oh no - not you, Izaya-san, I bet many already know you! Haha! You know what? I actually bought that TIME magazine with your face on the cover - it was for some environmental thing of yours, a building you were going to power using only solar energy. Quite admirable, I say!"_

  
_"Thank you,"_ said the billion-dollar net worth entrepreneur through gritted teeth, classy even near death. He was currently kneeling down, his suit torn and bloody with the blood that oozed out of his flesh wounds. His eyes looked bloodshot and his hands were tied by a rope, his hands blistered.

  
He was guarded by another person, a male. His face, except his eyes and mouth, were covered by a silver cowl, shaped like that of a head of a bird - like that of a great horned owl, specifically. The rest of his outfit consisted of dark gray body armour, along with silver gloves, boots and a flowing cape. An utility belt hung from his waist, although it was concealed by the confines of his cape. He currently held a large, rather sharp-looking knife at the edge of the entrepreneur's throat, ready to slit when necessary.

 

_"Stop the games,"_ sighed the person, gazing exasperatedly at the Guess Monster with an expression cold enough to stop fires. _"Can't I just kill him? My knife is itching."_

 

Hatred surged in him as he watched the villains next to the Guess Monster. They were animals, pure animals. However, soon, Akaashi felt himself look up to gaze upon the newest criminal's eyes, cold and serious, almost devoid of life, stern and dutiful, full of darkness and evil. But at the same time, they were one of the most beautiful pairs of eyes he'd ever seen, gold and shining-

  
Akaashi froze, looking at the screen with wide green orbs, coming to the great realization.

  
Those were the same gold eyes of the stranger he'd just spoken to.

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter's five trivia (see if you noticed some!):
> 
> \- The name of XX Bank's CEO, Izaya Heiwajima, "might" just be the combination of two characters from another very popular anime and manga that I like. 
> 
> \- "The Guess Monster" (you should have figured out who he is, though)'s outfit is loosely based on Saitama-sensei's from OPM, since you know, I don't know frack about costumes.
> 
> \- "The Other Villain"'s costume is loosely based on Batman's Batsuit costume, because as I said above, I don't really know much about costumes. Sorry. 
> 
> \- "The Pudding Head" café owner, Kuroo Tetsurou, "might" have dedicated the café's name to a special someone. Also, if you notice, there are 15 indoor tables. 1 is Kuroo's # in his volleyball jersey, whereas 5 is the person's # in their volleyball jersey. 1+ 5 = 15 indoor tables. There are also "5" tables outside. 
> 
> \- I watched Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice this weekend and even though there were several parts I disliked (ahem, mainly Ben Affleck, ahem), I did like it! Some parts were creative, and also, it pumped me up to finish over 80% of this in one day. I'd always wanted to start a Superhero/Supervillain AU, since I'm a big fan of comics and that genre, but this was the right motivation boost I needed!


End file.
